[it’s real when they say it]
You weren´t crying about mother.
Were crying because can't get your shadow to stick on.
Anyway, you weren´t crying.
(Peter Pan, Act 1)
“And how, from there, from that edge, that muffled yell, that tumbled childhood, can a kingdom spread?”
Lullaby: low, slow song for soothing to sleep. Adult: differential position / insomnia. Jasmine: in Sufi aromatherapy, a bond-strengthening essence. Creature: living thing / product: of man’s imagination, generally fantastical in nature.
You’ll remember white—for example—Mari’s favorite.
As for Lalo, the glimpse of tiny flowers.
“No one’s going to find you here if you don’t make noise, not even the one you make when you suck in your boogers.”
Sipping
swallowing
licking
cup-fraction
where her lips
could
have left behind
a drop.
You longed to be like her, whinnying in the storm, swimming the seas of the continent.
Alone
amid marble steps
You shiver in the living room
and assume the irreversible:
Close your eyes and swallow the host of your lineage in a single mouthful.
The lord has given, the Lord has taken away.
“Come on, don’t be like that, let her play with you”
She confessed that she was your real mother, but she was so young that she surrendered you for her older sister to raise. In her account, at least your father was the same.
Say me. Not believing. You entirely disappear.
“And how, from there, from that edge, that muffled yell, that tumbled childhood, can a kingdom spread?”
“No one’s going to find you here if you don’t make noise, not even the one you make when you suck in your boogers.”
[it’s real when they say it]
You’ll remember white—for example—Mari’s favorite.
As for Lalo, the glimpse of tiny flowers.
You weren´t crying about mother.
Were crying because can't get your shadow to stick on.
Anyway, you weren´t crying.
(Peter Pan, Act 1)
Sipping
swallowing
licking
cup-fraction
where her lips
could
have left behind
a drop.
Close your eyes and swallow the host of your lineage in a single mouthful.
The lord has given, the Lord has taken away.
Lullaby: low, slow song for soothing to sleep. Adult: differential position / insomnia. Jasmine: in Sufi aromatherapy, a bond-strengthening essence. Creature: living thing / product: of man’s imagination, generally fantastical in nature.
You longed to be like her, whinnying in the storm, swimming the seas of the continent.
Alone
amid marble steps
You shiver in the living room
and assume the irreversible:
“Come on, don’t be like that, let her play with you”
She confessed that she was your real mother, but she was so young that she surrendered you for her older sister to raise. In her account, at least your father was the same.
Facing a drab mirror,
rub your eyes
like the squares of an empty market.
Say me. Not believing. You entirely disappear.
Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
Still have the scar from that bubble on the back of your wrist.
returning to the garden in the evening
shouting ready or not
and waiting twenty years to say
olly olly oxen free
The show begins. It’s ready. You sit to watch the audience. Now you can clap.
but what if she comes one day and you’re gone?
It will only be real and intense when it detaches from the stalk and its essence dries.
“And how, from there, from that edge, that muffled yell, that tumbled childhood, can a kingdom spread?”
“No one’s going to find you here if you don’t make noise, not even the one you make when you suck in your boogers.”
Sipping
swallowing
licking
cup-fraction
where her lips
could
have left behind
a drop.
[it’s real when they say it]
You’ll remember white—for example—Mari’s favorite.
As for Lalo, the glimpse of tiny flowers.
Close your eyes and swallow the host of your lineage in a single mouthful.
The lord has given, the Lord has taken away.
You longed to be like her, whinnying in the storm, swimming the seas of the continent.
Facing a drab mirror,
rub your eyes
like the squares of an empty market.
Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
returning to the garden in the evening
shouting ready or not
and waiting twenty years to say
olly olly oxen free
You weren´t crying about mother.
Were crying because can't get your shadow to stick on.
Anyway, you weren´t crying.
(Peter Pan, Act 1)
“Come on, don’t be like that, let her play with you”
She confessed that she was your real mother, but she was so young that she surrendered you for her older sister to raise. In her account, at least your father was the same.
Say me. Not believing. You entirely disappear.
It will only be real and intense when it detaches from the stalk and its essence dries.
Lullaby: low, slow song for soothing to sleep. Adult: differential position / insomnia. Jasmine: in Sufi aromatherapy, a bond-strengthening essence. Creature: living thing / product: of man’s imagination, generally fantastical in nature.
Still have the scar from that bubble on the back of your wrist.
The show begins. It’s ready. You sit to watch the audience. Now you can clap.
but what if she comes one day and you’re gone?
“No one’s going to find you here if you don’t make noise, not even the one you make when you suck in your boogers.”
“And how, from there, from that edge, that muffled yell, that tumbled childhood, can a kingdom spread?”
Sipping
swallowing
licking
cup-fraction
where her lips
could
have left behind
a drop.
[it’s real when they say it]
You’ll remember white—for example—Mari’s favorite.
As for Lalo, the glimpse of tiny flowers.
You longed to be like her, whinnying in the storm, swimming the seas of the continent.
Close your eyes and swallow the host of your lineage in a single mouthful.
“Come on, don’t be like that, let her play with you”
She confessed that she was your real mother, but she was so young that she surrendered you for her older sister to raise. In her account, at least your father was the same.
You weren´t crying about mother.
Were crying because can't get your shadow to stick on.
Anyway, you weren´t crying.
(Peter Pan, Act 1)
“No one’s going to find you here if you don’t make noise, not even the one you make when you suck in your boogers.”
“And how, from there, from that edge, that muffled yell, that tumbled childhood, can a kingdom spread?”
Sipping
swallowing
licking
cup-fraction
where her lips
could
have left behind
a drop.
[it’s real when they say it]
You’ll remember white—for example—Mari’s favorite.
As for Lalo, the glimpse of tiny flowers.
Close your eyes and swallow the host of your lineage in a single mouthful.
The lord has given, the Lord has taken away.
You weren´t crying about mother.
Were crying because can't get your shadow to stick on.
Anyway, you weren´t crying.
(Peter Pan, Act 1)
Facing a drab mirror,
rub your eyes
like the squares of an empty market.
Lullaby: low, slow song for soothing to sleep. Adult: differential position / insomnia. Jasmine: in Sufi aromatherapy, a bond-strengthening essence. Creature: living thing / product: of man’s imagination, generally fantastical in nature.
You longed to be like her, whinnying in the storm, swimming the seas of the continent.
Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
“And how, from there, from that edge, that muffled yell, that tumbled childhood, can a kingdom spread?”
[it’s real when they say it]
You weren´t crying about mother.
Were crying because can't get your shadow to stick on.
Anyway, you weren´t crying.
(Peter Pan, Act 1)
You’ll remember white—for example—Mari’s favorite.
As for Lalo, the glimpse of tiny flowers.
You longed to be like her, whinnying in the storm, swimming the seas of the continent.
“No one’s going to find you here if you don’t make noise, not even the one you make when you suck in your boogers.”
Sipping
swallowing
licking
cup-fraction
where her lips
could
have left behind
a drop.
Close your eyes and swallow the host of your lineage in a single mouthful.
“Come on, don’t be like that, let her play with you”
The lord has given, the Lord has taken away.
Facing a drab mirror,
rub your eyes
like the squares of an empty market.
Without a wardrobe now,
You abandon that and all your other diplomas
backstage.
She confessed that she was your real mother, but she was so young that she surrendered you for her older sister to raise. In her account, at least your father was the same.
visualize the voice of thought.
think the image of the voice.
provoke destiny. play.
from chance, from the sigh.
understand the force that links
the image to the name.
the name is an image.
the image is a verb.
play. nothing is chance.
destiny is a game.
everything is destiny.
—